


All I Want For Christmas Is You

by jalenrose1122



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, Same with Eddie, Take my trash, but not necessarily in that order ;), its honestly shit, maggie is there if you squint, proposal and smut, this is a christmas present
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 01:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17132438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalenrose1122/pseuds/jalenrose1122
Summary: richie proposes to stan on christmas. that's it that's the fic





	All I Want For Christmas Is You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bellabee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellabee/gifts).



It was the Christmas of 2018, and Richard Tozier was freaking the fuck out. He had a date tonight. But not just any date; it was a date that would either make or break his relationship with the love of his life, Stanley Uris.

 

He had been thinking about it for three whole weeks, though if he was honest he had thought about it for the past four years they were together. Ever since the day when they were 17 when Stan kissed him out of nowhere at the quarry. It was that day that Richie knew he would spend the rest of his life with the other boy. He was going to propose.

 

On  _ Christmas _ . He could only hope that Stan wouldn’t reject him, tell him that they were  _ too young _ . He had heard that too many times in the past three weeks. Firstly it came from his best friend Eddie, who thought that Richie wouldn’t be able to commit to getting married. Little did he know, Richie had committed since the day he met Stan.

 

The second time he heard it was from his mother. He had to borrow money from Maggie and Went, so he of course went to ask his mom for some. When she questioned him as to what it was for, it accidentally slipped out that he was buying a ring. He could’ve easily came up with a lie; he was only borrowing the few hundred dollars he was short of. But the cat was out of the bag, and his mother was telling him those two words he didn’t want to hear.

 

_ Too young _ . Now Richie was starting to overthink. His overthinking reached its peak when he heard it from the one person he never wanted to say those words.

 

Stan.

 

They were sitting on the couch one day, about a week before Richie decided to buy the ring. Stan was curled up against Richie’s side, watching a bird documentary on Netflix. Richie was scrolling through Instagram on his phone, stopping when he saw that somebody that they went to high school with had gotten married. He turned his phone to show Stan, who crinkled his nose.

 

“Aren’t they a little too young to be married already? We’re practically all still children, Rich.” Richie nearly felt his heart break at the words. 

 

“You- uh. You think they’re too young? Even if they, like. Love each other?” he asked, starting to rethink this whole “proposing to Stan and making him mine forever” thing.

 

Stan simply shrugged. “I mean, if they loved each other enough then yes. But they’ve only been together for a year, right? If it was like  _ us _ , then that’s different. We’ve been together four years. That’s a lot more time to get to know a person, and to really know if you want to be with them forever or not.” He shrugged again, glancing up at Richie. “Why does it matter so much? It’s not like you’ll be heart broken if they’re broken up this time next year.”

 

Richie blinked for a second, trying to take in everything Stan just said. “Nevermind that. So you  _ would _ be okay with getting married at our age? Or no?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t being too obvious about his plans-- or his  _ maybe _ plans.

 

Stan sighed, a sign that he was getting somewhat annoyed with Richie’s questions. He reached for the remote, pausing the show that he was watching. “Why are you asking? I mean, yes. I wouldn’t care either way. We could  _ never _ get married and I would still love you more than anything else. Why does it matter, Richie?” he asked.

 

Richie sighed, relief flooding his body. So Stan wasn’t opposed to it.  _ Good _ . “Nothing, nevermind. It doesn’t matter, just my mouth running before my brain could catch it,” he said. He pushed his glasses up his nose, shrugging. 

 

Stan hummed, curling back up against his side and turning his show back on. Richie was never more grateful for that; Stan would be distracted, and wouldn’t notice how hard he was thinking. 

 

~~~

 

“Oh my fucking god.” 

 

It was 5 am on Christmas morning, and Richie was freaking out. He had the ring in his pocket-- he had every day for the past week-- and he couldn’t breathe. It reminded him of when Eddie used to have his “asthma” attacks. He stopped his pacing of the living room, sitting down on the coffee table and putting his head in his hands. He heard footsteps coming from down the hall of he and Stan’s small apartment, and immediately felt bad. He hated waking Stan up when he couldn’t sleep.

 

“Richie? Why are you up?” Stan asked, his voice groggy as he came into the living room. He walked over to Richie, standing in front of him in his boxers and one of Richie’s hoodies. Richie looked up at him, sighing.

 

“Couldn’t sleep. I didn’t wanna wake you,” he said softly. 

 

Stan didn’t say anything. He moved to stand between Richie’s thighs, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “I’ll stay up with you, then. Oh, and merry Christmas.”

 

Richie wrapped his arms around Stan’s waist, smiling. “Merry Christmas, my love,” he said softly. “We should get ready if you wanna go see my mom today.” 

 

Stan shrugged, tightening his hold on Richie. “Or we could stay here, and you could cook for me later tonight, or this morning. And we can have some time for us,” he said, starting to play with Richie’s hair. 

 

Richie bit down hard on his lip, nodding. He knew that whenever Stan started playing with his hair, he wanted something. “What is it?” Richie asked. 

 

Stan shrugged, moving his hands to start rubbing them over Richie’s bare shoulders. “What is what?” he asked with faux innocence. “Can't I just touch my boyfriend?” His voice was just losing the sound of just waking up, but it still sounded deep and rough. It sent shivers down Richie's spine. 

 

“I think you want more than to touch me,” Richie mumbled. “I think you want  _ me  _ to touch  _ you  _ instead.”

 

Stan shrugged, pressing kisses to Richie's jaw. “Maybe I do,” he whispered against his skin. He kissed down his jawline to his neck, starting to suck small marks onto it. 

 

Richie groaned, standing up. “Well, we’re not having sex in the living room. Especially not on the coffee table,” he said. He led Stan back to their bedroom, smiling when Stan started to slip his clothes off. 

 

It was a matter of time before Stan was completely naked, laying on his back in the middle of the bed. Richie was sitting between his legs, having taken off his boxers as soon as possible. He admired Stan’s body; the sun was just starting to peek through the curtains, and it was shining over the expanse of Stan’s nate skin. “Beautiful,” Richie whispered. 

 

He gave Stan a soft smile when he started to blush, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Stan’s forehead. “Since we… last night, um. You should just be able to… go for it,” Stan whispered, stumbling over his words. 

 

Richie chuckled, nodding as he understood: since they had just had sex less than twelve hours ago, Stan didn't want Richie to prep him. 

 

It was something they had recently started doing. Whenever they were having sex and they already had either the day before or earlier in the day, Richie didn't prep Stan. It had started out as Stan's idea, because he read somewhere that the small amount of pain actually added to the pleasure. 

 

Stan shuddered when Richie reaches over to the nightstand. He started to shake his head, nodding when Richie only grabbed the small bottle of lube they had. “I wanna do it,” he mumbled, taking the bottle from his boyfriend. Richie gladly handed it over, letting Stan do whatever he wanted. 

 

Stan poured a small amount of the liquid into the palm of his hand, bringing his hand to Richie's length and slowly starting to stroke him. Richie let out a small moan, pushing his hips forward slightly. 

 

When Stan felt Richie was coated well enough with the lube, he pulled his hand away and laid back down. Richie took his cue, pushing Stan’s legs further apart and lining up at his entrance. He slowly pushed in, staying quiet so he could hear the small noises Stan made as he bottomed out. 

 

“Feel good?” Richie asked, his voice quiet. 

 

Stan quickly started nodding, the small amount of pain he felt quickly turning into pleasure. “Feels so good, Richie. More, please.”

 

Richie hummed, pulling out a few inches before snapping his hips forward. He repeated the motion, pulling out more and more each time. He angled his thrusts to try and directly hit Stan’s prostate. 

 

He could tell it was working when the man under him started letting out broken moans, clutching onto Richie like his life depended on it. He was making those  _ ah ah ah _ noises that drove Richie absolutely  _ insane _ , scratching his nails up and down Richie's back. 

 

Richie shuddered at the feeling as he started thrusting in and out of Stan at a moderately quick pace, supporting his weight on his elbows. He buried his face in Stan’s neck, panting slightly. The sting of Stan scratching up his back mixed with the sound of him moaning in his ear was bringing him closer to the edge. He nearly lost it when Stan brought one of his hands to his hair, tugging lightly on the dark curls. 

 

“Babe, I've told you not to pull my hair,” he said quietly, rolling his eyes when Stan tugged again. “ _ Babe _ ,” he moaned. 

 

Stan smirked, a rush running through him when Richie moaned. “I want you to cum in me,” he said. 

 

Richie chuckled, nodding as he sped up the pace of his hips. Stan started moaning louder, the noise echoing off the walls of their small bedroom. He bit his lip, moving to toss one of Stan’s legs over his shoulder. 

 

He started fucking him at a brutal pace, the quickness of it all happening causing Stan to spill his load across his stomach. “ _ Richie!”  _ he nearly yelled, tossing his head back. 

 

Richie groaned as he watched Stan, lazily thrusting into him until he came a few moments later. Stan whimpered at the feeling of Richie filling him up, his arms dropping and falling onto the bed. 

 

After Richie kissed his forehead and mumbled a quick declaration of love, he pulled out and cleaned Stan up. He laid down on the bed next to him, letting Stan curl up against his side. He sighed, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend and rubbing his back. They fell asleep again quickly, both holding on tightly to the other. 

  
  


When they woke again, it was nearing late afternoon. They both had many missed messages from their friends, probably wondering why they had been silent all day. On  _ Christmas _ of all days. Richie texted them quickly, saying that everything was okay and that they just slept late.  _ Really  _ late. 

 

After the Losers were off their asses, Richie pulled Stan out of bed. He dragged him into the shower, where they spent the better part of an hour exploring each other's bodies. Almost like they were new, like they hadn't been together for a little over four years. 

 

They got dressed in nice clothes, Richie having planned on taking Stan out to dinner instead of cooking like he promised. Stan was okay with it, far too tired to have to wait around for Richie to take 20 years to cook a meal. 

 

“Are you almost ready, Staniel?” Richie asked, buttoning up his light blue shirt. He tucked it into his black pants, running a hand through his hair. 

 

Stan came out of the bathroom, rolling his eyes. “Yes, Richard. I'm ready. And don't call me that, idiot.” He was wearing a teal sweater, pairing it with a pair of light blue jeans. Richie was in awe of how he could look so relaxed but so proper at all times. 

 

“Let's go then, my love,” Richie said, holding out his hand for Stan. He made sure he had the ring in his pocket before he grabbed his keys and led Stan out to the car. 

 

~~~

 

30 minutes later found them at a fancy italian restaurant. Richie was sitting across from Stan at a table in the middle of the place, which made Richie more nervous than he was to begin with. 

 

The dinner went relatively good. Good enough to the point that Richie didn't want to give himself an anxiety attack while he figured out how to do it. How to  _ propose _ . 

 

He excused himself to the bathroom around the time they ordered dessert. He was pacing in front of the row of sinks, mumbling to himself. He nearly jumped when a man came out of one of the stalls. 

 

“Heard you out here talking to yourself. You need help?” he asked, walking around Richie to one of the sinks and washing his hands. 

 

“Uh. Yeah. I'm about to propose to my boyfriend. I don't… I don't know what I'm doing,” he mumbled, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. 

 

The man hummed, nodding. “Well. All I can tell you is this: when you know it's time, it's time.” He nodded his head at Richie, smiling before walking out. 

 

Richie thought his words over for a minute before he walked back out to Stan. He sat down, smiling at him. 

 

“Everything okay?” Stan asked. 

 

Richie nodded. “Yeah. Everything's great. Just had to take the longest piss of my life,” he said. 

 

Stan laughed, finding the joke funnier than he should've. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with laughter. 

 

“Will you marry me?” Richie blurted out. 

 

Stan’s hands quickly fell from around his face. He stared an Richie, his eyes wide. “Will I do  _ what?  _ He asked, running a hand through his hair. 

 

Richie chewed on his lip, slowly scooting his chair backwards and standing up. He fished the ring out of his pocket, getting down on one knee. 

 

“ _ No.  _ Are you- oh my god, Chee,” Stan whispered, a smile coming to his face. 

 

“Shut up and let me do this,” Richie said. He took a deep breath, looking up at Stan. “Stan. Stan my man. Staniel. Stanny boy.” He grinned when Stan started to laugh. “Stanley Uris. I love you so god damned much. So much it hurts my little pea brain to try and explain the love I have for you. 

 

“You've been with me through the roughest parts of my life. You were there the first time I got shitfaced and Eddie refused to let me come over, because his mom was home. You let me come over, because your parents were at temple or some shit and you knew I wouldn't get caught sneaking in your window. You were there when I had my sexuality crisis, but little did you know it was because of you.  _ You  _ were the crisis, Stan. You were my gay awakening, and you quickly became my reason to wake up every morning. 

 

“I've been in love with you since I was 17, and I'll love you forever. Will you be mine, Stan?” he asked. He held out the ring, smiling sheepishly. 

 

Stan nodded quickly, his eyes filling with tears. He ignored the looks he got from everyone else in the general vicinity, wrapping his arms around Richie. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you!” he sobbed. He pulled away, holding out his hand and letting Richie slip the ring on his finger. 

 

“We gotta get home,” Stan mumbled. “I wanna… celebrate.”

 

Richie moves as fast as possible, getting their bill paid and their dessert taken to go. He sped nearly the whole way home, wanting to get there as fast as possible. 

 

What he did not expect was for Stan to push him down onto the couch the minute they had the front door closed. It was a few minutes of Stan’s begging and Richie laughing before Richie was undressed from the waist down. 

 

Stan was kneeling on the floor between Richie's legs, smiling. “I'm gonna make you cum, then we can cuddle,” he said softly. 

 

Richie nodded, running his fingers through Stan's hair. He sighed as he watched the other man, biting his lip. 

 

Stan leaned down, licking over the tip of Richie's cock. He hummed when Richie moaned, licking a slow stripe up and down his entire length. He repeated that for a moment before starting to take him into his mouth. 

 

Richie was a moaning mess, his fingers tightening in Stan's hair each time he took him deeper. “I'm not gonna last long, Stanny. I'm so close,” he whispered. 

 

Stan reaches up to tap on Richie’s thigh, bobbing his head up and down. He took Richie as far as he could, the tip of his dick just barely pressing against the back of his throat. It was a few more minutes of that before Richie was spilling down his throat, moaning his name loudly. 

 

Stan pulled back, sitting on his heels. Richie fell back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “Merry fucking Christmas to me,” he said under his breath. 

 

“Merry Christmas,” Stan repeated, giggling. He waited for Richie to pull his pants back up before he climbed into the couch, sitting against him. “A very good Christmas this one has been.”

 

Richie nodded. “Yep. And I got what I wanted.  _ You.” _

 

Stan hummed. “All I want for Christmas is you,” he said softly, causing Richie to laugh. 

 

“You and only you,” Richie said, yawning. “I feel like i'm going to fall asleep right here. Your blowjobs always make me feel like i'm on cloud nine.”

 

Stan snorted, rolling his eyes. “Whatever. It's just a blowjob, it can't be that good.”

 

“Well, you're clearly underestimating yourself.”

 

Stan shrugged, laying his head on Richie's shoulder. “I don't know, Rich. If you say they're good, then I trust you.” 

 

Richie wrapped his arm around Stan. “Everything's good when I'm with you,” he mumbled. 

 

Stan giggled, curling into Richie's side and yawning. “I love you, Rich.”

 

“I love you too, Staniel.”

 

And they fell asleep, both with the love of their lives next to them. 

 

FIN

 


End file.
